A Mercenary's Pay
by KaithrEchtein
Summary: A story of survival for a group of orphans as they make their way in the world, fighting off monsters of all sorts... and trying to piece together a strange past that no one remembers.


When we first met, Mitch and me, we were in an inn and I was trying to steal his money. That wasn't a spur of the moment thing – not a one-off, I mean – I stole for a living. It was the only way I survived. I was with Burke – an older thief – who was telling me who to go for. I was better in a crowded place like this because I was smaller and younger. It was Burke who pointed Mitch out to me as a target.

"See him there, in the silk robe?" Burke whispered.

I peered through the smoky fug, trying to find anything even resembling silk in amongst the rough cotton and leather.

"No, near the stage. Pale skin, black hair. Young-ish."

With burke's hissed description wavering by my ear, I found who he was looking at; a young boy with messy black hair that was maybe slightly longer than my red spikes. There was a hint of something powerful about him, although he seemed so slender and weak surrounded by all the farmers.

"Got him?"

"Yeah."

"I'll make a distraction; you get his money and get out."

I nodded as burke started to melt into the gloom. For such a big man, Burke could move surprisingly fast. Following the path made by a waiter in a bunny suit, I made my way nearer to the target, tying to keep inconspicuous. As I got within a few metres of him, there was a roar from the other side of the room, and the sound of someone getting punch. Everyone whipped round to see what was going on. Everything that is apart from me and the target. I looked up from my crouched position to see him watching me with red eyes, so very like my own. I saw him take in the bright red spikes of hair, the red eyes set in a thin pointed face, the ill-fitting top that fell to my knees and the patched trousers that only just made it to my ankles.

Then he glanced away, having perceived me as no proper threat. That was my moment. I sprang forward, catching hold of his drawstring pouch in one hand, severing it with the small knife in my other.

He called after me as I ran through the maze of tables and people. The fight was swinging into the middle of the floor now, more and more of the residents joining in.

"Terr!" I heard a yell, stopped and looked around.

Burke was still in the fight, trying to get out now. "Graveyard!" he called a meeting place.

I started to run again, keeping low in the hope that the target wouldn't see me. But then the ground in front of me was burning, and I was jerked to a halt as someone's hand hit my shoulder.

"I'll be having that back now," said a voice being me.

I turned around. The boy was standing there, his hand now out-stretched for the bag. A mage then. That was the power I had sensed.

"No can do," I said, straightening up. "Sorry. I've gotta live."

I saw his widen as he took in the fact that I was just as tall – if not slightly taller – than him and a girl before I turned and leapt through the flames.

I passed through them too quickly for them to do much harm, but my clothes were smoking slightly as I hit the cool night air. My eyes stung from the smoke and now the air whipping past as I ran for a hiding place, my feet slipping off the ground.

Someone was following, heavier feet in shoes thumping along the path.

"Will you stop? I need... to talk," the boy again, panting behind me.

"You'll have to spell me first!" I shrieked, trying to move faster.

There was a whirring sound just as I turned for the trees. Something white-hot and burning stroked along my back, splitting into intense pain.

Frantically, I threw the bag in a different direction – hoping he'd follow that rather than me – made it to a hollow tree and curled up inside.

The pain in my back was making it hard to concentrate on anything, making it hard to stay still so he wouldn't find me. He didn't even seem interested in finding his bag. Maybe he had a lot more, or hadn't seen me throw it.

I hissed through my teeth as something pressed into my back, pushing the pain further into my body with jerky stabs.

I saw him turn round; find me, a strange emotion disfiguring his face. Triumph? I wondered weakly as I spun into unconsciousness.


End file.
